The Woman and the Consulting Detective
by revolutionary14
Summary: Just some lengthy Sherlock/Irene smut. It's not finished just yet but I'll make a second part eventually!


"Sherlock?"

He didn't answer or show any kind of response to my calling his name. He had been frustrated with a case recently... one he was having an unpredicted amount of trouble with. He continued facing away from me, prepping multiple nicotine patches to be attached to his arm. Feigning busyness to avoid conversing with me... Typical. I knew he had heard me and, although he seemed indifferent on the outer surface, on the inside his gears where clicking and whirling at lightning speeds, trying to guess what I was going to say before I even parted my painted lips. But I knew how to get his attention.

"You've never been with a woman, have you?"

Ahh, that did the job. He spun on his heel so fast that his long, tweed coat went whipping around behind him. "I'm sorry?" He hissed, his robins-egg-blue eyes narrowing at the sight of me. Despite myself, I grinned. "Well, I actually know that you haven't but I wanted to be polite and ask." I stated matter-of-factly. "Don't mislead yourself by believing your powers of observation are as keen as my own. It would be insurmountable and quite the grand assumption that someone like _you_ could even think you could possibly deduce whether I've ever had sexual relations with someone." he spoke fast, his pink lips moving quickly. There was a moment of solid silence between us. I narrowed my eyes. "It wasn't hard for me to figure it out." I continued, evading his cutting insults. He glared at me hard for a moment with that cold gaze and furrowed brows he wears so often. I had to admit, when he plays that aloof card it's almost overpoweringly seductive. But, then again, when was_ The _Mr. Sherlock Holmes ever unalluring to me? When all I did was stare back at him, he huffed and unceremoniously turned his back, hunched his shoulders and stuck two of the patches onto his forearm.

Oh, but he wasn't escaping that easily. I knew how to rough him up.

"You want to know how I know, don't you?" I spoke loftily, knowing it would exasperate him further. I just lived for playing this game. I could picture perfectly his perturbed expression in my head and it only made me grin further. I stood up slowly from my intentionally provocative (though ineffective so far) lying position on the fainting couch. I began a deliberate saunter over to where he stood by his cluttered desk, keeping my eyes fixed on the back of his curly-haired head. When I reached him I stood directly behind him. He continued to force me from his attention. I wondered why he insisted on wearing that winter coat while we had a fire going in here. I gazed at his turned-up collar... I suddenly realized he might be using it as a physical and psychological attempt to shield himself from me. Well, now, something had to be done about that.

I stepped directly up to him, wrapped my arms around him and pressed my body against his back. Sherlock scoffed but made no attempt to shake me from him. I grinned, closed my eyes, and subtly took in his scent; the faint spice of tobacco from before he quit, some sort of wooden fragrance -although I doubted he wore any sort of cologne so therefore it was his aftershave- and that aromatic smell of the air on a cold night.

"I'll just tell you how I know... it's the case you're working on." It was then that he finally shook himself free of my hold on him and turned to face me. "Oh?" he prompted, mockingly. He muttered it as though he was daring me to tell him just so that he could tell me I was wrong. "Yeah. The one about the prostitute and the murder. The one that you _can't solve_." I put a strong emphasis on the last two words. He scoffed. I persisted, "Oh. You don't know why, do you?"

He slammed his hand onto the desk in frustration out of nowhere, making me jump and take a step back. "Will you quit with the _games _and the _queries_ and just _get to the part where you tell me why I can't solve this bloody case_? I'm _dying_ to hear your estimable input. I'm sure it's just _priceless_." He spat sarcastically, his teeth bared in his exasperation.

I gazed at him. I was not going to cease. It was way too much fun and I already had my mind set on what I wanted... and I was going to get it. So I continued.

"You don't know what it's like... To be with someone." I saw his eyes widen only slightly, unnoticeable by anyone else. But, as much as Sherlock might doubt it, I did have quite commendable cognitive powers... and I was so in-tuned to him - all of him, his body, his thoughts, _everything_ - that it was impossible for me to miss it. His eyes fluttered back and forth, looking at each of mine, the way it always did when he was silently calculating in a rush. But when was Sherlock ever not rushing?

He still didn't speak and I knew I had his complete attention. But I was in no hurry. While Sherlock was a quick, darting bird I was a slow, slithering snake. I had caught him in my sight and I wanted to take my time with him. I advanced closer but he did not counter.

I reached up and folded his collar back down, exposing his neck. Those were always my weakness... men's necks. The muscles and tendons moving and working while men talked... simply _irresistible_. And Sherlock's was especially enticing... it was thick and pale. I unabashedly reached out to touch it... he still kept up his impassive demeanor. So, I slipped my fingers under the coat and gradually eased it off his shoulders. His purple button-up shirt had a couple buttons at the top undone. _Damn that neck_, I thought.

"So, indulge me... assuming that I have never been intimate, as you insist, why would that ever inhibit _me _from solving a case?" He finally spoke up, his low voice starting to turn me on. I had to pry my eyes from his neck to look him in the face. "Because... you can't understand why anyone would pay money, give disregard for laws, commit adultery and even _murder _just for the sake of sex... because you've never experienced it." I smirked and added "And I'm sure that you consider yourself too above... self-pleasure." "Hmm. Fascinating assessment." He said, and when I felt his hot breath on my face I suddenly realized how close we were.

I took it all in... his blue eyes with the reflection of the fire, his dark eyelashes causing long shadows to stretch across those cutting cheekbones, his sweetly pink lips, his neck muscles, his un-buttoned shirt, his broad shoulders, the way his body was oriented around mine, leaning in towards me, breathing the same air... it was then that I knew that the bird was hypnotized and I needed to strike.

I placed my hands on his chest and swiftly pushed him back against the wall. I took it as encouragement that he wasn't fighting back. And then I straightened up and kissed him. It was open-mouthed, deliberately slow, soft and rhythmic... for a second I wondered if Sherlock had never even been kissed before. He wasn't reacting much, but he was moving his mouth with mine which was a good sign. Maybe he just needed a little encouragement. I reached up again to caress that _gorgeous _neck again. Then I moved one hand to his shoulder and the other into his hair. I twisted and smoothed his dark, soft locks to match the rhythm of our kiss and Sherlock released a huff of air that told me that I was doing something right. Ha! Like I could ever do it _wrong. _I threw my arm around his back and started tugging on his hair, beginning to add a sense of alert and neediness to our kiss.

Finally - _finally_ - Sherlock got the message, placing one hand on my arm and the other on my face. And so we were intwined, mouths moving in perfect synchronization when suddenly it wasn't enough for Sherlock. His hands wrapped around me, pulling me as crushingly close as possible, almost lifting me from the floor. I couldn't help but smile into his mouth. His lips moved faster, his hunger growing. I gave in happily. His want was elevating and so was mine. I tried to wrench my face away from Sherlock's, who fought against it for a moment, grasping at the back of my neck and kissing me more. But when I kept trying to pull away, he gave up on my lips and moved to my neck, kissing and sucking. _Hmm, impressive,_ I thought. I gasped and gripped his hair again when he took a nibble of my neck. _Very impressive_, I admitted. But I wanted... _needed_ to step it up a notch.

So I slid my hand down to his crotch. That was it, he froze, looking me right in the eyes. There was a moment where neither of us moved, only panted and held eye-contact. Then, I leaned in and kissed that neck that was so beautiful... _oh_, it tasted so good. He was helpless, trapped. I started rubbing through his trousers. And then he moaned. A long, drawn-out moan from deep in his throat. God, that turned me on. I rubbed a little harder, though kept up the slow pace.

He leaned his head back against the wall and groaned again. "Yes. Moan like that for me." I whispered. And right away he quit making any noise at all. Damn. I forgot who I was talking to. "You arrogant bastard." I hissed. But I didn't give up, I just rubbed harder, faster, creating more friction. I could already feel him growing harder and I knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long. He remained silent but I felt his body twitching and I knew that tension would have to be released sometime. Then, within minutes, he was thrusting into my palm. He was openly grunting, humping my hand. Damn it, that was _so sexy_. I quickly relinquished my hand and started kissing him again. He was an animal now. He wasn't holding back. I've never been so turned on in my life... and I've had plenty experience in that area.

Now our tongues were involved, thrashing out against each other, fighting a war that we were both winning. I turned my head to suck his earlobe, my fingers un-buttoning his shirt as fast as I could. _Oh, fuck, his arms, _was all I could think as he finished pulling his shirt of himself. I touched him. I touched him everywhere. His body was thin, but toned and streamlined. I gently ran my nails down his back. He started wrestling with my own clothes. My blouse was on the floor in seconds. He took no hesitation in un-clasping my bra and tossing it aside.

Suddenly, everything slowed down again. We were breathing fast but our movements were slow as we both explored each others bodies. I traced his arm muscles, he ran his hands down my back, I pressed my palms against his flat stomach, he used his fingertips to caress my sides, I touched his neck again. I could tell he was avoiding my breasts for whatever reason. He was too busy following the curve of my waist and kissing my shoulder. So I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. As I did so, I pulled myself against him so that my boobs were squished against his chest. I moaned into his mouth and dug my fingers into his hair again. I took both of his hands in mine so that my palms were on the back of his and slowly slid them up my stomach while staring sensually into his eyes. I placed one on each of my breasts and started moving them in a slow, massaging motion, guiding him in what to do. I leaned up to his ear and moaned, encouraging him that it felt good... because it did feel_ sooo_ good. "Sherlock" I whispered breathlessly. And then he didn't need any more encouragement. When I took my hands away to rest on his shoulders he continued at his own pace. Squeezing, stroking, massaging, his calloused fingers were nimble and thorough with their work.

I started pulling him over to the couch and he did not take his hands away for one second. I pushed him down so that he was sitting and I was standing between his legs. Sherlock placed his hands on my lower back and pulled me close... and placed his mouth over one of my nipples. "Sherlock!" I gasped in surprise. He kissed them all over, from little pecks to sucking. Both of my hands were in his hair so I yanked his head back and met his mouth with mine. As we kissed, I swung one leg up beside him and then the other. I lowered myself so that I was straddling him and slowly began moving my hips. Within seconds I had him fidgeting and groaning, grasping at my hips. Fuck, he had gotten hard really fast. And the grinding was making me wet, too. I wanted him so badly. That hunger in the pit of my stomach was making me desperate.

I picked up the pace. His head was thrown back over the back of the couch, his eyes were squeezed shut and he was biting his lip in pure pleasure, moaning and groaning with each cycle of my hips. Just seeing him like this was almost enough to send me over the edge. I quickly got off the couch and pulled him into a standing position. "Oh, Ms. Adler" he whispered, so breathless and with his eyes full of dreamy lust. I placed one of my fingers over his lips and gave him a look that told him not to speak... yet. I reached down and started unbuttoning his pants as he stood just staring at me in a fog of pleasure. They fell down around his ankles along with his underwear and he kicked them aside.

_Oh_, I thought as I saw his size. I was more than pleasantly surprise by how... _gifted _Sherlock was. His arrogance wasn't his only big attribute. I pushed him back down on the couch and he reached out for me, but I ignored him and got on my knees. I placed each of my hands on one of his knees and spread them as far as I could. I scooted forward a bit and took hold of his prick in my hand and started pumping. It was already so stiff, pulsing in my palm. And so hot


End file.
